My dear, wonderful, shining Bachelor Nation,
We’re back once again for a magical week of happiness, love, friendship, and — oh who am I kidding. These dudes are sharpening their claws and ready to show the world how feminism means dudes can also be bitches. Let’s go.
We kick off this week at the mansion with Christopher Harrison making his first ethereal appearance ahead of the first group date. How I’ve missed that face so tan it can only be described as the hue of a rotisserie chicken. He throws out a few zingers at Jordan’s expense, and hands over the first date card for this week.
Elsewhere in LA, Becca’s besties descend upon her like the Sanderson Sisters in Hocus Pocus. Sienne, Kendall, Caroline, Tia, and the one and only B’kah are here and ready to paaarrttaaaayyyyyy.
Once the mimosas have been distributed, it’s time to spill the tea. Becca lets it be known to the group that Tia once dated Colton. And the ladies are shaken to their core. Because ex-boyfriends are just off limits to friends. I mean that’s just like, the rules of feminism.
The boys roll up to the sketchiest spa in history for a hands-on experience with this new cast of Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants (I would absolutely pay to see that reboot with B’kah and Kendall realizing their true love is actually each other because #friendship). And while introducing her friends to the men, Becca had a brain fart and forgot Jason’s name.
Between the manicures and back massages, Becca and Tia steal away for a quick rundown of Tia’s history with Colton. Tia tells Becca that she and Colton were together, then he ghosted on her for The Bachelorette. The awkwardness ultimately subsides, and the feet soaking continues without incident.
At the evening portion, Jean Blanc pulls a smooth move to steal Becca first. But it’s David and Jordan who steal the show. David says he’s not one to throw people under the bus, and then proceeds to chuck Jordan’s body directly under a double decker. Somehow, Jordan has 4,000 Tinder matches and a nearly 100% match rate. I don’t know where he’s getting those metrics, but I can guess how he’s getting those matches.
Becca slyly comes back to the group and gives Jordan a casual high-five for those 4,000 matches. And what follows might be one of the weirdest and best segments to ever appear on this show. Jordan and David begin squawking at each other while Jason, Jean Blanc, and Wills try not to lose their minds laughing.
David pokes the modeling bear and attempts to identify all the faces Jordan is making like he’s playing Pissed Off Charades. And that brings us to the lines we’ve all been waiting for — and our winner for Quote of the Week — from the wordsmith himself, Jordan:
“Attached to me is professionality. It’s in the way I walk; it’s in the way I talk. Okay? If you want to try and wreck my image, you’ll never succeed. And you want to know why? Because my image is me. Hey — cheers to you being a bitch.”
Bravo, sir. Bravo. Shakespeare never wrote a soliloquy like that.
Once this All-American Bitch Fest between Zoolander and the Chicken concludes, Colton manages to sweet talk Becca into giving him the date rose. I wash down my vomit with wine. Colton made out like a bandit with that one, and I’m not into it. He reminds me of a giant Build-A-Bear and I don’t need a reboot of Life Size with anyone but Tyra Banks and Lindsay Lohan.
But then, before the next date, someone is shown on a stretcher being carried out of the mansion. Blood is everywhere, and there’s no footage. We discover…it’s David. Was he hit? Did someone harm him in any way?
Well…someone didn’t hurt him.
That’s right — David rolled off his top bunk and crashed to the floor. While David might resemble Tom Hanks in Big, he is very much an adult in both size and mental capacity. Big tree fall hard. Thankfully, David is okay and will make a full recovery. I anticipate a Heidi Montag-style reveal of David’s face next week.
Next up is Chris’ one-on-one with Becca. Pulling up to Capitol Records, they have a songwriting session with Richard Marx (no relation to Groucho or Karl). They’re tasked with writing love songs for each other, which appears to be triggering for Chris. The last time he had to write a vulnerable letter, it was to his father, who did not reply nor reciprocate the feelings. I won’t snark on this — family dynamics are complicated, and I won’t pretend to know Chris’s life story. Becca finds him in the hallway attempting to gather his thoughts, and they share a nice moment before moving on with the date as scheduled.
Thankfully, producers spare our ears and the songs are sung on behalf of Becca and Chris. Mr. Marx, a grateful nation thanks you. The starry-eyed love vibes continue into the evening, and Chris gets the rose, despite looking like a low budget John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. I choose to forgive this transgression. He had a tough day.
The second group date arrives, and wouldn’t ya know — it’s a football date, and Clay is on it. How original! The creativity! We have never seen this before!
After running drills most of the day, the guys participate in a wild scrimmage that would rival most pee-wee games. But Clay, the professional football player, busts his wrist on a routine touchdown pass. You can’t make this stuff up, ladies and gentlemen.
Once Clay heads to the hospital for a second opinion, Garrett and Blake continue to make strong impressions on Becca in the evening. But Clay arrives at the last moment to sweep Becca off her feet, snatching the rose right out from under them.
We finally arrive at the cocktail party, where it seems all is going to plan. Señor Tall Hair mansplains baseball to Becca, but we overhear Clay talking through his diagnosis with some of the men. He says he plans to leave the mansion tonight, as he needs surgery immediately. Using our carefully honed Law and Order: SVU sense of time, we know there will not be a rose ceremony this week. The Bachelorette producers have denied us this one consistency in life, and I, for one, blame Kim Jong Un.
And this brings us to this week’s Personal Victimization Award. Look, we all know The Bachelorette and its family of shows is a steaming pile of white hot garbage. There’s little to no true nutritional value in it, but much like a bowl of Cocoa Puffs or Cinnamon Toast Crunch, we go back every time. It’s escapism. So you can imagine my annoyance to see our Cheeto-In-Chief and his new BFF, Kim Jong Kills-His-Family, interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to have a historic handshake in Singapore. While this is a groundbreaking moment, and I hope only good things come of it, it popped my lil safety bubble, and brought me back down to earth. Yes, the President of the United States should get airtime on all major networks for this moment or anything, for that matter — it’s protocol. But I just wish it had interrupted something I don’t watch like Wheel of Fortune or the news. This gives new meaning to the most dramatic one-on-one date in Bachelorette history.
Next week we’ll finally get to see David’s new face and find out what happens when people stop being polite, and start getting real. Also, someone makes Becca cry. I did not leave the South Side for this.